


Clanker Boat

by Azureshadowmoon



Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic (Video Game)
Genre: Bisexuals in Space, Dorks in Love, F/F, Falling In Love, First Kiss, Sharing a Bed, Slow Burn, currently lvl 50, im still playing the story, on hiatus my sub ran out sooob, will update tags as I go
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-28
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-14 05:07:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29040621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Azureshadowmoon/pseuds/Azureshadowmoon
Summary: There are some things on the Defender Kira can’t stand. C2 yammers too much, T7’s optimism could atrophy a sith on the spot, and the holocomm beeps continuously nonstop with messages. These were normal and she’d already adjusted to them. She just wasn’t expecting the midriff.Or, Kira avoids catching feelings and only ends up falling.
Relationships: Kira Carsen/Female Jedi Knight | Hero of Tython
Kudos: 32





	1. The Realization

.

.

She was the captain of a clanker boat. 

“Why do you get to be captain?” Civril asks, which delights Kira for many reasons and most of them are because she’s bleeding boredom into the force like a leaky faucet. Civril picks this up- because  _ of course _ the walking force ocean detects if she even sneezes wrong- and usually ignores it because she’s a True Model Jedi. Kira doesn’t fault her for that. There’s a difference between being raised by Jedi and being trained by them. 

Still. It’s fun when Civril actually plays along. 

“Because I’m the better pilot.” Kira sniffs. It’s true. The Hero of Tython could take on dozens of flesh-devouring monsters but putting her in a pilot seat might have been the most suicidal mission the council has ever given her. Thank the stars for auto-piloting. 

She hears Civril let out a long breath beside her.  _ Score for Kira.  _

_ Annoying,  _ Civril projects back, like a jerk. 

“I’m captain of the clankers,” Kira announces. The silence from Civril is unsatisfying so she taps the intercom button and says it again. T7 gives her a bunch of binary for laughter and C2 sounds like he’s going to have a panic attack if he doesn’t self-destruct for her. She gives Civril a droll look. 

Civril has the gall to  _ smile  _ at her from beneath her hood, “They’re yours now.”

“Oh no.” She makes a show of taking her hands off the controls. “I’m not adopting your strays for you.”

“They aren’t strays.” A quiet admonishment with gentle amusement, like she’s trying to reassure Kira she’s not scolding her. It’s a small sappy and  _ dumb  _ thing that has Kira fumbling to respond. It’s weird sometimes to have someone the same age as herself considered a superior. Calling Civril  _ master  _ when she’d barely even comprehended her as a Padawan was a wild experience. 

_ “They’re going to write a book about you.”  _ She remembers saying to the newly minted knight. 

Civril had blinked at her,  _ “Why…?” _

_ “The feral lunatic who managed to go from Padawan to Knight with a leech in a week. Good job.” _

Master Kiwiiks would have scolded her. 

Civril had laughed. 

_ I’m keeping this one.  _ Kira had thought and held on to that all through Nar Shadda and Taris and finally through the terrifying ordeal with her...family? Siblings? Ugly people from her past wanting to drag her into their ugliness. Yeah. 

She was ready to die to stay a Jedi.  _ I want to stay. _

She just...hadn’t expected Civril to feel the same way. 

Glancing at her now, the Jedi Knight is a pool of warmth and calm. There’s a datapad in her lap that she’s thumbing through, the only sign Civril is actually bored. She’s got one boot up and crossed over her thigh when there’s an honest to go table two feet from her. 

_ Or maybe she wants to sit with you,  _ a traitorous thought occurs. 

Kira shoves those thoughts away. It was better to sit close in case they wanted to have a Team Discussion or whatever. It’s not a big deal. They’ve done it since Tython. It’s been very busy for the clanker boat, rolling from planet to planet because a sith lord wants to make a scavenger hunt with Republic military facilities. 

“Seriously.” Kira drawls, letting how tired she was flow into the force. “I’m not looking forward to this.”

Civril hums, a trickle of comfort coming back through the threads of their bond. That was just as weird for Kira sometimes. She was used to Master Kiwiiks steadfast presence, the master and student bond keeping Kira grounded throughout her training. She’s certain this arrangement was meant to be temporary, but the threads of a bond are still there. Civril hadn’t mentioned it to the council. Kira couldn’t work her mouth to say anything either. 

_ I wonder what Master Kiwiiks would think.  _ She frowns at this line of thought. 

They were heading for Tatooine. 

“We can still go to Alderaan.” Kira suggests quietly. “Just in case. I haven’t felt anything from Master Kiwiiks.”

“I haven’t felt anything from Master Din either.” Civril replies. There’s not a twitch of emotion about it. “I trust he has things handled.”

Kira offers a half-smile, “But not Master Kiwiiks?”

There’s a beat of something like surprise. It’s as close to flustered as Civiril can get, “I didn’t mean- I just....”

She glances at Kira and stays silent. The threads are speaking and they’re saying  _ worry.  _ Not for Master Kiwiiks. For Kira. 

Kira’s chest feels warm. She can’t help the smile she gives the Jedi Knight. It’s not a Jedi smile. It’s too soft and affectionate. She doesn’t think she’s ever smiled that way for anyone before. 

“I’ll be fine, hero.” She says, hoping the breach of Jedi code will have Master Kiwiiks apparating out of nowhere to scold her. It’d at least stop the rain cloud following the  _ Defender _ . “Maybe there was just a sand storm and everything’s alright for once.”

Civril sighs, “If only.”

.

.

It’s hot. 

“It’s a desert planet,” Civril tells her after she complained about it for the sixth time. They’d had to take a moment on the  _ Defender _ in their own quarters to get ready. Kira had lighter clothes, of course, but they still felt like too much in comparison to the heat of two suns. Meanwhile Civril…

_ That’s not what’s hot,  _ the same traitorous voice teases. 

Civril is still wearing her trademark blues, the skirt and the greaves looking more militaristic instead of Jedi. The darkly colored boots were definitely Republic make. The chestguard though? The chestguard that is literally it’s namesake and only covers the other girl's chest and leaves her midriff exposed?  _ That  _ chestguard?

_ What is it even guarding?!  _ Kira thinks hysterically, keeping her eyes trained on her own boots. She gives herself a moment to be thankful her wardrobe isn’t just Jedi robes. Going shopping with Civril was the most domestically weird thing either of them has done. Still do.  _ Did other people think that was a date? _

It’s a lot of skin. Kira sighs into her hand and ignores Civril’s oblivious confusion coming across their bond.  _ Hells, how am I supposed to hide these feelings? _

She pauses. 

_ Feelings?  _ She tests the word, her heart beating a little faster,  _ What feelings, hello? What was that? _

“Kira?” Civril is prodding her through the force, looking at her concernedly while they stand around loitering in a spaceport. “Do you want to head back to the ship? If the heat is too much…”   
  


Kira shoves any wild thoughts away. Her pride was on the line now. 

“I got this.” She reassures, careful not to let her eyes stray any lower than Civril’s face. The blonde is still giving her a wary look.  _ Play it cool.  _ “I think Master Kiwiiks is in the middle of all this, though. Let’s get to her before I feel her having a heat stroke.”

Relief spreads across the Jedi Knight’s face, “I’m glad you’ve reached her.”

Well, Kira’s not  _ wrong,  _ at least for a few more minutes. Lying felt awful and dumb for such a weak thing. And then a few moments later she feels a shock of pain through her bond with Master Kiwiiks. Its mid-conversation with some locals and Civril is turning to her sharply. She hadn’t felt Master Kiwiiks pain. She’d felt Kira’s. 

_ Oh no.  _ Kira felt tumultuous emotions again.  _ Please return quickly, Master Kiwiiks. If I stay any longer with this Jedi Knight I might do something stupid.  _

“We’ll find her, Kira.” Civril gives her a small smile and having absolutely no idea what it’s doing to Kira’s heart. “That’s a promise.”

_ Help,  _ is all Kira can think as they set out into the dunes. 

.

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not featured: me spending 20 minutes changing the girls appearances for Sand Adventures


	2. Post Tatooine and Jailbreaks

.

.

Kira was happy. 

Tatooine was a mess, but at least it wasn’t _their_ mess to deal with any longer. It felt good to be back on the _Defender._ Everyone was whole and happy. No lasting injuries, no permanent damage, not even the above-average trauma each planet usually leaves them with. The sands of Tatooine had been forgiving if a little absurd. 

“How are we feeling about take-out?” She asks, lounging back in the co-pilot chair. 

Civril’s amusement through the force was a beacon. It was happiness and content. Kira imagines it similar to a cat that’s lounging in the sun, “With whose credits?”

Kira grimaces. She knows who has the heavier wallet. “Didn’t take you to be stingy with your money.”

“I’m not.” Civril taps out coordinates. “But you’re right. I think we should celebrate.”

“What about Master Orgus?”

Civril pauses. Kira feels it, a brief blip of _worrytension_ before the Jedi Knight is as lazy as a cat again. 

“I haven’t felt anything,” Civril confirms her fears, serene despite the troublesome news. “But he’s never been forthcoming. It’s on the way to Alderaan anyhow.”

_That,_ Kira warily kept her emotions tucked behind her shields, _sounds a lot like a distraction._

Tatooine had gone well and left them in high spirits. Kira herself felt like she was floating. All her fears and doubts had evaporated under Master Kiwiiks comforting gaze. It’s one thing to be told your master is being torn apart by sonic emissions. It’s another to experience the drumbeat of each shockwave as it rattles the planet's core. Not to mention the ancient beast they had to fight on the way. 

_Seriously._ Kira reclines back heavily in her chair. _Can we go to one planet without upsetting some mythological creature?_

It had been worth it. 

_“You’re a strong young Jedi.”_ Master Kiwiiks voice was a balm to her soul. Her childhood felt like a dusty dream in comparison. She could barely restrain herself from flying into the woman's arms. She must have let something show, because Master Kiwiiks aura had turned into warm amusement. _“I believe in you.”_

“Since Master Kiwiiks is going to be recovering,” Kira drawls, “I’m sticking with you till the end.” 

There’s a beat of surprise from Civril, “Kira…”

Kira tosses the blonde an incredulous look, “What, you thought after everything I’d leave you high and dry? No chance. You kept your promise, so now I’m gonna make one of my own.”

Blue eyes are staring at her. Bewilderment, amusement, affection- it’s too much to diagnose at once so Kira just bluntly says, “I promise I’ll return Master Orgus to you safely.”

Civril slouches, “You don’t have to make promises-”

“But you get to?”

“...Alright.” Her voice drops quieter, a softness that Kira hasn’t heard before coloring her voice. “Thank you, Kira.”

_Anytime,_ she wants to say but she’s afraid different words will fly from her mouth. She keeps her mouth shut and hopes Civril can’t hear how loud her heart is beating. 

.

.

Alderaan sucked. 

The change from hot dry sand to cold icy tundra was an ugly shock. They’d quickly found themselves in their Jedi robes again. T7 had wished them off with cheery optimism that only someone (thing?) unaffected by the elements could offer. She made sure to give him a dirty look because Civril was too nice too. At least the spaceport didn’t have anyone immediately running up to them begging for help. 

“Do you feel him?” Kira asked. 

Civril had only frowned. She didn’t know if it was worse than a no or not. 

And then they met the count. After that everything seemed to crumble and fall apart. Kira doesn’t know how to comfort people. Usually, to her chagrin, she’s the one receiving reassurance. She felt a sharp stab in the force, a painful tug at the forming threads of their bond. 

“The Jedi was killed. There’s no way he survived.”

_That’s the last time I ever make a promise,_ she thinks. 

The count had been vaporized, they got tugged into a political war, and finally ended up as ransom for three hundred civilians. Which ends up where they are now, in a Thul prison waiting for the Republic to come to collect them like they were misbehaving children. 

“This sucks.” Kira hisses out. 

Civril says nothing. She’s sitting against the wall, her hood up and covering her expression. Her forehead is touching her knees and the entire position just screams with grief. She might have put on a brave face when offering herself up as a prisoner. Now, there was just guilt and mourning. Kira doesn’t know if she made the situation worse or better by refusing to be left behind. 

“I told you,” She’d said as she offered her hands to the Thul, “I’m with you to the end.”

Civril had looked crushed. _I’m seriously the worst at reassuring people._

Now they were alone, loosely watched by Thul officers outside their prison. Kira ignores them, watching her Jedi rain cloud from across the room. She tried to picture herself in Civril’s place. The shock drum had torn Master Kiwiiks apart and now she didn’t have that part of herself anymore. That person who accepted her and brought her into a new world was gone. 

_Then again,_ Kira watches Civril sigh, _Civril and Master Orgus know each other for less time than me and Master Kiwiiks have trained together. Maybe it's different._

“I’m sorry,” Civril murmured across the cell. “I should not be moping.”

Kira shrugs, “Not like we’ve got anything better to do while we wait for someone to show up.”

Civril snorts, another sharp stab of _guiltworryresigned,_ “It’d take nothing short of a revolution to get us out of here.” 

_Careful,_ Kira stopped herself from saying something stupid. Civril was hurting. This was something no one saw, an occurrence so rare it was likely Civril handled these moments alone. As casually as possible, Kira strolled across the room. She stopped beside her Jedi, sliding down the wall with a put upon sigh. Their shoulders brushed as she got comfortable. 

“If we’re lucky the death ray will zap the door controls,” Kira grumbles. 

Civril bows her head. Kira grimaces- _you did not just mention Master Orgus murder weapon like that-_ before shaking her head, “...sorry. You deserve better than me here to be your shoulder to cry on.”

“I don’t-” Civril made a strangled noise, “Jedi do not form attachments.”

That sounded so horribly textbook. And a blatant lie. Kira could feel the remorse through their bond. She nudged the other girl's shoulder. 

“You know who you’re talking to, right?” She jokes lightly, “I wasn’t raised by Jedi. I don’t care if you cry.”

“...I think that makes you a great Jedi.” Civril whispers. 

Kira snorts, “And I thought I was the jokester.”

A small thread of annoyance, “We’re taught not to form attachments. Feelings, emotions, love.” There’s a hearty pause that has Kira’s stomach-turning. Civril's voice trembles when she says, “It’s the path to the dark side.”

“I didn’t know you were afraid of the dark side.”

“I’m not.” Civril tilts her head, blue eyes catching hers in the darkness of their cell, “But it feels natural to ignore it. Fondness. Liking. Bias. It’s like turning on a water faucet. It’s instinct.”

Kira listens and says, “Huh.”

Civril hides her face in her arms, “Nevermind.”

“No. Back up. I was processing.” Kira flaps her hand, “Where were you going with that? I get it, you and every other Jedi are in the running for the best droid impression.”

A sigh, but it’s not a bad one. There’s exasperation but there’s also warmth to it. Kira considers that a win and nudges her companion again. 

Civril relents, “I’ve...never felt a bond. When I finally got one it was…quick.”

_A one week bond._ Kira doesn’t know what to say. What can she say? This is a good thing, she can get over Master Orgus death faster or “I’m sorry you got field knighted because your master has a thing for getting put into danger”? Master Orgus hadn’t taken a Padawan in years and when he did it was over in a heartbeat. 

_Could almost be misinterpreted as him wanting to get it over with._ Kira grimaces. “...He really thought you were special, you know.”

Civril tilts her head. 

Kira carries on, “I’ve seen Master Orgus on the council. He didn’t really like me, too vocal. ‘Mouthy Padawan’, right, you remember. But he always reminded me of what a dad would be like, you know? He’s got the grizzled bedtime story voice down.” 

A short, aborted laugh. It sounds weak but there’s a note of joy in the force that hadn't been there before. Kira forges on with all the will of an idiot who can’t keep her mouth shut. 

“I mean it.” Kira falters but decides they were close enough, she trusts Civril. “I, uh, didn’t really understand Jedi bonds that much. I always...kinda thought of Master Kiwiiks as a mother figure. In a way.” 

She forced down the embarrassment. Civril had raised her head, expression awed and fond and something else that’s sending Kira’s heart into loops. She swallows and says, “I think it’s okay to mourn him. It’s healthy. He was a good guy.”

“Kira…” A soft smile. “You…”

Whatever she was about to say gets cut off by the sound of blaster fire. Suddenly, the Thul officers are scrambling as- _holy stars._ Kira blinks as the same Alderaan citizens they saved are barging into the facility, guns blazing and yelling like they’re Republic soldiers. 

“Get them out!” One of them shouts, “Get the prisoners to safety!” 

“What…?” Civril is stunned. 

Kira manages a laugh, “Well hero, looks like you got your revolution.” 

.

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me one second: yay kira's mom!
> 
> me the next second: NO MY DAD


	3. No Good Awful Alderaan

.

.

Alderaan didn’t just suck. 

It was a hole in the galaxy. A black hole that Kira would sooner like to forget than remember.  For a brief moment, there was happiness. The elation that soared through the Force when they cut down the door and Master Orgus appeared was unparalleled. Civril’s smile was wide when she practically  _ chirped,  _ “Master!” 

“Good to see ya, kiddo.” 

It was a relief. 

And then the Death Mark reactivated. 

Kira could feel her own rage, her own heartbreak thrumming through the force. Alongside Civril's grief, it was a maelstrom. The Death Mark hadn’t taken any more lives but the number of years lost off Kira’s life due to stress should be put down in a medical record somewhere. The very moment Civril was marked Kira felt like her insides were full of nails. 

“Nervous?” She remembers asking.

Civril had offered warmth through their bond, her expression serene despite the fact at any moment she could be wiped from existence, “Not at all.”

Which didn’t last long. Master Orgus holo’d them and told them where he was going-  _ insane just like Civril-  _ and the beads of fear had flown back to Civril like they were still stuck in that jail. Kira doesn’t blame her. If Master Kiwiiks had told her she was facing a maniacal sith lord alone it’d raise her blood pressure. 

“I’ll destroy the Death Mark and catch up, wait for me Master.” Civril had said, her tone inches away from sounding like pleading. 

The old guy smiled and Kira didn’t have to use the Force to know it was a proud one, “You have a different path, my friend. I’ve taught you all I know. This is something I must do. May the Force be with you.”

“And you.” Civril murmured. 

That’s the last conversation they would have with Master Orgus. 

Kira watched it happen and can barely believe the whole net was watching it too. Lord Nefarid’s slimy laugh echoing around them as Master Orgus is executed live. The red saber of Darth Angral stabbing him through-  _ there is no death, only the Force-  _ and Civril dropping to her knees. Kira remembers panicking, her lightsaber in hand as she brings it down on the computer. The transmission cut out. 

“Shit.” Kira breathed, her heart screaming in her ears, “Shit, shit, we…”

Civril took a deep breath. Her face was pained and the Force was aching, but she was standing back up. Lord Nefarid was taunting them from the shadows, but Kira was more worried about the mess of emotions they’d both become. Kira knew she wasn’t good at reining them in. Anger came easy to her and frustration was a second language. She was still a Padawan because of this. 

Sith anger was burning lava. Scorching and twisting, devouring light through the Force. Civril’s anger was cold and icy. It was something new, something Kira wasn’t sure she liked feeling. 

“You don’t have to come out.” Civril’s blue sabers ignited with a hiss. “I don’t have to see you to sense you.” 

“You’re still marked, little Jedi.” The sith lord’s voice was all around them, a snake in the dark. “Better start running.” 

Civril gave Kira a look. Through their messy emotions, there was one that occurred-  _ gratitude?-  _ before Civril is leaping off the railing to avoid being blown into the ground. Kira takes a breath, fear and rage battling with  _ calm, calm, you have to be calm.  _ She feels the Force ripple as Lord Nefarid jumps from the shadows. She’s already intercepting. 

It’s a small thing, a small not so Jedi thing, to get smug joy out of the look of outrage on his face before her lightsaber severs his head from his neck. 

.

.

The  _ Defender  _ is quiet. 

Hyperspace is usually calming. The jump takes a little while, but it gives time for a nap or a nice meal. Maybe she can even bug T7 or get C2 to do something hilariously inane. But most often, she’d sit with Civril as the world turns into a blur of blue, comfortably enjoying each other's presence.

There was nothing comfortable about this silence. 

“So…” Kira hedged awkwardly, trying to swallow down her hurt emotions for two seconds, “I owe you an apology.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry for, Kira.” Civril muttered, eyes trained down towards her lap. Her hand was running over the console, her fingers occasionally tapping against it. Impatience and worry were meshing together there. “I’ve already mourned.”

“You lost him twice.” Kira pointed out. “...I know you don’t want to talk about it, but...well, I’m here if you want to.”   
  


A small flare of affection, “...thank you.”

Silence. Kira wanted to run a hand down her face. Anxiety wasn’t new but it was definitely unwelcome. There was a possibility they were going to encounter Darth Angral and they were in no way collected enough for that, not yet. Kira would probably do something stupid like charge in without thinking. She was already wishing hurtful things on the man. 

Civril must have sensed the pretzel she was twisting her head into, “We’ll be fine.”

“Don’t reassure me.” Kira bites out before she can think. She winces as she feels Civril surprise, a small prick of hurt, “Sorry, sorry. I just...I’m not the one who-”

“You lost him too.” Civril cuts her off. “You’re allowed to grieve too.”

Kira pauses. She can feel more emotions tearing themselves up inside her. Most of them are centered around  _ you idiot you almost gave me a heart attack.  _ She doesn’t say that. How can she say nicely that, hey, I know we’re going to face the sith that’s been hunting you for the last few weeks but can you maybe not die? Even if it’s a little bit?

Civril is staring at her. 

_ Right.  _ Kira slides down into her seat with a sigh.  _ Force bond. I need to shut up.  _

“No, you’re fine.” Civril whispers. It startled Kira, but the blonde is only feeding back warmth and reassurance. “It...actually makes me feel better.”

Kira snorts, “I’m glad my thoughtless panicking is a comfort.”

“Not that.” Civril hesitates, her thumb running a circle on the counter. Kira watches it raptly. “I’m happy you care. It’s...nice.” She made a face like she’d just touched a Rakghoul. “I’m not good with words.”

“Get in line.” Kira fumbles for what to say. “But, I’m glad. Too. For us. As friends.”

_ Hello?  _ Kira wants to punch herself.  _ Kira, are you losing your mind?? What was that? _

But Civril gives a small laugh. It doesn’t sound real, but there’s a trickle of genuine happiness somewhere in it. Kira relaxes and decides she’d let her mouth do enough today. If she says any more on the topic of  _ feelings  _ she might say something she’ll regret. 

“Thank you.” Civril tilts her head, eyes shining against the light of hyperspace. “I’m glad you’re by my side, Kira.”

_ Oh Force,  _ Kira breathes. “Hey, I’m not going anywhere and that’s not a promise I intend to break.”

Content wraps around Civril and Kira welcomes it against the raincloud that’d draped itself over them. Positive emotions felt good after Alderaan.  _ Think optimistically,  _ Kira tried to cheer herself up,  _ like T7. Think happy thoughts. That’ll help her.  _

It’s hard to be happy at all as hyperspace disappears around them and their viewport is filled with the burning remains of a Republic planet. 

.

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me when we found Orgus: :D
> 
> me when he died: im about to commit a crime


	4. Hero

.

.

This felt like a bad dream. 

The voice coming from her wasn’t hers. The hand holding her lightsaber was hers but it wasn’t her will that it swung. She’d never strike at Civril.  _ That’s not me.  _

“You have to fight him! I believe in you, Kira!”

_ Silence, child.  _ The voice of nothing and everything is a cloud over her mind. She can’t think, not around this massive storm. A weight of ancient power is wrapped around her and she can’t move, can’t move,  _ stop hurting her- _

_ Insolence will be punished.  _

It feels like her mind is being split apart and reformed, new pieces that shouldn’t be there. Darkness is eating at her. Every small precious light she’s gathered since joining the Order. It’s all being eaten alive. 

“Kira!” A flash of blue sabers across her vision, “I know you can do this. Master Kiwiiks, you remember her, you have to. She told you. You’re a strong Jedi. You can fight this!”

The voice that’s not hers says, “Your Padawan is dead.”

“She’s not dead.” Kira can see her more clearly. Her sabers are crossed, blocking her double-blade from tearing her in half. Her hair is loose down her shoulder-  _ right we fought Darth Angral she lost her ponytail we won-  _ and there’s a burn on the skin just below it. 

“Did I do that?” She asks and is surprised when her own voice comes out of her mouth.

Hope blooms across Civril’s face, “Kira! The Emperor is trying to take over your mind, you have to fight him!”

“Amusing.” The voice that’s not hers says, “You think your pathetic Padawan can defeat me? She can’t even defeat you.”

“She can.” 

There’s a lot of blue in her vision, but she sees Civril’s eyes and thinks  _ how can I beat the Emperor let alone you?  _ She hadn’t been a Jedi for long. She doesn’t know enough to do this. It’s hopeless. His grip on her is too strong. 

Her saber cuts forward, a stance she's unfamiliar with. Civril looks just as startled by this and hurries to block it. It’s a sloppy maneuver and the saber shrieks as its light cuts out. With one saber, Civril moves to block her next blow. She's not good with only one blade. She'd at a disadvantage. 

_ What was that?  _ Kira watches the fight in bewilderment.  _ How did you lose a saber to me?  _

“Kira!” A note of frustration in Civil’s voice as she struggles against the blade pressing down on her, “You  _ have  _ to fight him! I’m not going to hurt you!”

Oh. 

_ Oh.  _

That’s why she’d win against Civril. That’s how she’ll watch the Hero of Tython fall to her blade. Civril won’t fight her, won’t even harm her. She’d been on the defensive this whole time. She’ll die because she doesn’t want her own sabers to cut Kira down. 

“Do you really have that much faith in me?” She asks and it sounds choked up. 

Civril grimaces as their blades clash again, but there’s hope and encouragement pushing through the Force. It’s a lifeline. 

“I believe in you.” Civril repeats, “You can beat him.”

_ But how-? _

Her saber is deflecting and blocking, pushing back harder than ever. A hiss is in her head, rage snapping its jaws around her. Civril stumbles. It’s an opportunity that the entity in her head leaps at, her saber spinning downwards and- _ and- _

_   
_ “Stop.” Kira wheezes, hand on her own wrist, “Get out of my head. Stop  _ hurting her. _ ”

_ You have no power- _

“This is my body!” Kira snaps, wrenching her saber out of her hand. It clatters to the floor. “This is  _ my life.  _ I didn’t invite you,  _ get out!”  _

The Force screams and ripples. It feels like the shock drum is activated in her head. Every part of her aches. She doesn’t realize she’s falling forward until arms are wrapping around her. 

“Civ…” Kira’s mouth is cotton and she coughs. 

“Kira?” The voice brushes her hair, hands gently cradling her. It’s nice. Really nice.  _ Blacking out isn’t so bad if it’s in your arms.  _ “Kira, you can’t pass out. The ship is detonating.”

“The ship is what.” Kira repeats flatly. 

Civril’s fingers are over her neck. A gentle touch and relief is soaring through the Force. Kira feels like a blanket is being draped over her. It takes a lot to open her eyes and raise her head. 

  
Civril’s smiling, “Welcome back, hero.”

“You can’t steal my nickname.” Kira wipes at her mouth. Everything feels disgusting. It takes her a second too long to realize her head is in Civril’s lap. She gives the blonde an incredulous look, “Are you...holding me?”

Civril laughs, a shakiness to it showing how afraid she was, “I’m allowed to worry over you after that ordeal.”

The world rocked. Ship sirens were going off. Kira groaned, shamelessly turning her head to hide it into Civril’s shirt.  _ Force I don’t want to run.  _

“We have to run,” Civril confirmed solemnly, happy amusement and relief still shining in her aura. “Or I could carry you.”

  
_ Don’t tempt me,  _ Kira decides her pride couldn’t handle that or her heart. She reluctantly leaves the embrace, standing up with barely a wobble. Civril hovers at her shoulder. 

“I’m fine.” Kira says. “He’s gone.”

Civril looks forward, “I know. I felt when you beat him.”

_ Beat him?  _ Kira wondered,  _ There’s no way I beat the Emperor. Right? _

Civril projects back,  _ Hero.  _

“Civ,” Kira says because they’re running and this absolutely can’t wait, “wait, that was the Emperor? In my head? Did I really-?”

Civril is laughing as an Imperial ship explodes around them and it’s the best sound Kira has ever heard. 

.

.

She gets knighted. 

_ “You triumphed over the Emperor”  _ is not a phrase she had expected to hear from the council. Civril’s sparkling review of her performance and Master Kiwiiks proud smile almost had her knees giving out. She’s putting the whole “hunt the emperor” squad of Jedi thing out of her mind for now. They were on leave. They were given a vacation.

Kira spends it staring at her wall. 

It’s weird to be in her room again on Tython. It’s been almost a month and a week since she’d last slept in her bed. The  _ Defender  _ wasn’t bad, but it’s nice to sleep on something not moving through space for once. She can feel Civril nearby and Master Kiwiiks and it’s nice. Her first night back is fourteen hours of exhausted sleep. 

The next day she can’t find Civril. 

She doesn’t worry about it. The  _ Defender  _ is still here (she checked) and T7 is harassing younglings (she found him by accident) and she holo’d C2 just to check if Civril was messing around on the ship and got a negative. 

“You seem troubled.” Master Kiwiiks said. It’s their first time having tea since the ordeal with Darth Angral started. Now, as a Jedi Knight, Kira relaxes and savors the smell. 

“Just...adjusting, Master.” Kira murmurs into her cup, “I’m meditating on it.”

A hum of approval from the Tortuga, “I’ve sensed new feelings from you, Kira. You’ve grown exponentially since our time apart.”

“I had a good teacher.” Kira smiles. “But Civ doesn’t make tea, Master Kiwiiks. You're still my favorite.”

Her Master gives a huff of amusement, “It’s Civ now?”

Kira freezes. 

_ Oh damn.  _ She grimaces at herself.  _ When had I started using that nickname? Was it on the ship?  _

“Peace, my friend.” Master Kiwiiks raises a hand, eyes glittering knowingly, “Your fear of attachment is clouding your mind. You’re aware of what attachments lead to. I trust in your friendship with Knight Civril. You’ve both flourished from it.”

_ Right,  _ Kira nods,  _ just friends.  _

“Wait, both of us?” She echoes.

Kiwiiks hums, “I don’t believe I’ve ever seen that girl smile that way before. She’s become stronger in the Force since last I saw her before the council. I believe it was your doing, Kira.”

Kira blinks, “How would I have anything to do with that?”

“Some bonds,” Kiwiks said in her mysterious voice. Kira slouched in her chair when Kiwiiks said, “strengthen others.”

_ That’s great.  _ Kira looks down at her tea morosely.  _ If only I could figure out what our bond is.  _

.

.

She finds Civril in the library. 

The blonde had her head in a few datapads, hood up to keep away any wondrous stares. There are ruffled feathers of embarrassment that has Kira cracking a smirk. Civril almost looks sullen, curled up in a shadowy corner and avoiding younglings as if her life depends on it. 

“Stop smiling,” Civril says when she gets closer. 

  
“I’m not.” Kira lies. “Did T7 sic 'em on you?’ 

A sigh. It was basically a yes. Kira snorts and moves to join her friend on the couch. Their knees brush. Kira decides not to make a big deal of it. Her eyes catch the bandages peeking up above the collar of her shirt. 

“How’s the shoulder?” Kira goes for casual but ends up sounding awkward. She winces. 

Civril sends back comfort, “It’s healed. Barely even a scar.” 

“I’d hoped it wouldn’t.” Kira sighs, leaning back heavily on the couch, “So what’s the plan? We ditching this place soon for more Republic war crimes?”

Civril opens her mouth and closes it. It’s so quick Kira almost doesn’t catch it. The smallest feeling of  _ guiltdoubtanger.  _ Kira blinks and looks at her companion more closely. Civril turns her head back to the datapad, eyes downcast. 

“What?” Kira squints. “If you have something to say…”

“I thought you’d want to go off on your own now.” Civril murmurs, “As a Knight, you can start your own path. The General has already said he’s willing to give you a ship of your own.”

Kira’s brain kind of stalls at that.  _ A ship of her own.  _ Wild. Someone on Nar Shaddaa was pulling their hair out about that one. She can only imagine the faces of some of the thugs back there that would scream at the idea of her being a recognized hero.  _ Oops, too late, I am one.  _

“And who are you going to have when the  _ Defender  _ gets cornered in a fight?” Kira asks lightly, keeping down the hurt bubbling just beneath her skin. “Admit it. You need me.”

Civril pauses, her fingers hovering over the datapad in her lap. She raises her head, blue eyes catching Kira’s. There’s an emotion behind her shields, one Kira sees but can’t feel. 

“Yeah,” Civril whispers like she doesn’t want anyone else to hear. “I need you.”

“Then I’m not going anywhere.” Kira’s voice sounds shaky, familiar emotions from Tatooine rearing its head.  _ Calm down, it’s just Civril. _ “I made a promise, or did you forget?”

“I didn’t forget. Darth Angral is defeated. You’re no longer my Padawan.”

“But I’m your friend.”

Civril’s lips twitch into an almost-smile. “Yes.”

Kira crossed her arms with a world-weary sigh, “Then that’s that.” 

They fall into a comfortable silence. Kira likes it so much she ends up dozing off, lulled to sleep by the sound of humming datapads and Civril’s hand occasionally brushing her knee. 

.

.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> backflips into crew skills: how does this work


	5. Republic Fleet Shopping Trip

.

.

Despite the rest, Tython made them antsy. 

Master Tol Braga’s team of Jedi Knight assassins were already on the move. With or without the  _ Defender _ ’s help, they were going to attempt on the Emporers life. Kira didn’t want to be left out as much as Civril didn’t. After what happened on Darth Angrals’ ship especially. It felt personal now. 

They were rested up, properly healed, and motivated. There was nothing stopping them from joining the team. 

Except for Civril’s lack of a left hand. 

“Are you sure this is where you want to buy it?” 

Civril didn’t make a sound. Kira doesn’t think she could have heard her over the mutterings of an entire army. The Republic Fleet was a mess of crowded bodies. Hiding in the Cantina wasn’t so bad if only everyone and their blaster didn’t have the same idea. It was a miracle they were able to find a table to sit at, at the unfortunate circumstance of having to share it with another Jedi Knight. 

The orange Twi’lek sips her tea and says, “Color crystals are not difficult to find.”

“No.” Kira agrees, drawing the word out while trying not to break the Galactic Market datapad over her knee. The number of components needed to build a lightsaber became an absurd amount of credits. It’s almost to the point that just  _ buying  _ one would be cheaper. “I don’t know. Master Kiwiiks talked a bunch about Jedi lightsabers being an extension of ourselves. I don’t think I could stomach it coming from a slimy market trader.”

Civril hums, eyes trained on her own datapad. T7 beeps happily beside her, content to just be a drink holder since their table was now an improvised lightsaber station. Kira poked at the metal bits. Of the four of them at this table, she knew how to assemble it the best. The only problem was getting the proper parts. 

The orange Twi’lek-  _ Al’yaan, stars Kira needs to get better at names-  _ doesn’t emote. It’s unsettling to come across a Jedi more  _ Jedi  _ than Civril. A brick wall could have more emotion than this woman. The only thing interesting of note is the missing lekku heavily bandaged behind her head. The one unharmed tendril looked odd on the woman. 

_ I wonder if we’ll ever get an injury that noticeable.  _ Kira muses. She thinks the idea of a robot hand is cool for about four seconds. The thought of Civril curled on the ground in pain is not an image she wants to keep in her head. 

“So color crystals.” Kira prompts. 

“In certain traditions, different shades of light offer guidance and precision.” Al’yaan even spoke like Master Kiwiiks. Kira tried not to scowl. This was sounding awfully close to a lecture. “Meditating on it could provide insight on your path.” 

Civril muttered, “Busy.” 

Kira held her straight face. It’s hard not to laugh when Al’yaan shows emotion for the first time and it’s just the slightest twitch of her eyebrow. They couldn’t share the details of their assassin squad. Kira rather liked being a top-secret Jedi. 

“Of course.” Al’yaan sips her tea. 

“We just aiming for cheap and getting out of here?” Kira directs this to Civril. Her blonde lifts one shoulder, the Force between them giving a tremble of  _ doubt.  _ “What, it’s not like there’s a ton of options right?”

Civril turns her datapad for Kira to see. 

Kira sees  _ 100,000,000+  _ and says, “Okay take your time.”

Civril gives an aborted laugh, ducking her head like she’s trying to hide the noise.  _ Cute,  _ Kira smiles. She immediately smothers the emotion when she catches Al’yaan’s raised eyebrow.  _ Oh so now you wanna use your face muscles? _

“How long have you two been together?” Al’yaan asks. 

Kira jolts, her knee  _ thwacking  _ against the table. Pain is completely ignored as she fumbles to catch her datapad. Embarrassment is screaming over her shoulders and it takes everything not to squeak like a teenager. 

_ Together? Together?  _

“A month now,” Civril answers this as casually as the weather. There’s a subtle prod in the Force,  _ Kira what was that?  _

_ Nothing,  _ her shields are up and she’s locking down all thoughts,  _ not thinking.  _

“I see.” Al’yaan glances at Kira but doesn’t speak further on it, “Is your lightsaber still intact?”

“What, mine?” Kira asks, grimacing as her voice comes off an octave higher than it should.  _ Calm down, calm down.  _ “Uh, no. It’s good.”

She demonstrates this by pulling it out, igniting one half of it. The brilliant green lights up their table. A comforting hum has a few nearby looking at them, but Kira spotted several other knights with their lightsabers lit just upon arriving. It’s normal enough the attention is only brief. 

“Green.” Al’yaan acknowledges. “Life, renewal. An excellent sword for a newly minted knight. It’s to symbolize a turning point in your life. A testament to your growth.”

Kira doesn’t know what to say to that. “Thanks?”

Civril’s aura is amused, “Kira’s favorite color is green.”

_ Huh?  _ Kira blinks at her companion.  _ I never told her that.  _

_ I know,  _ came the warm reply. 

“I…” Al’yaan’s brows furrow. “...suppose you can choose what you’re comfortable with.”

“That’s the idea,” Kira said dryly. 

Civril hums as she taps something out on her datapad. It draws Kira’s attention for a moment before T7 is rolling backward. He’s taking their drinks with him so she has to say, “Where are you off to bucket?”

_ Jedi + thinking = alone.  _ It’s the curtest reply T7 has ever given her. 

“So you’re leaving with our drinks.” 

_ Yes.  _

“I must be off as well.” Al’yaan is standing up. Kira gives her the same bewildered look. The Twi’lek is impervious to it as she gives a small bow. “I wish you success in your future endeavors, fellow knights.” 

“Uh yeah. Stay safe out there.”

“Good luck.” Civril’s voice is almost drowned out by the cantina. 

Kira watches their other two tablemates leave in confusion. That was quick. Abrupt.  _ Suspicious.  _ It’s not something she’s motivated enough to investigate, since she can see T7 by the bar ordering them food. A little strange behavior can be forgiven with a gift. 

“Not that hanging out here with weirdos is fun,” Kira drawls, “but I think it's better just to pick one and go. It’s definitely not going to be the last one we lose.”

“We…” Civril echoes softly. 

Kira leans back in her chair, “Yeah. I imagine my saber will meet a grisly end one day. We are at war, even if the Republic doesn’t want to admit it yet.”

Civril gives her an unreadable look. Kira returns it, unsure what the blonde is conveying when both their shields are up. It’s not unusual but it feels different. She feels like she’s hiding something and she doesn’t even know what it is. Blue eyes watch her and flick down to her lightsaber. 

“Hm.” Civril looks back at her datapad. Kira breathes like she’s been released from a grapple. “I know what I want.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Green.” Civril answers shortly like that’s the end of the conversation. She won’t meet Kira’s eyes now and Kira feels  _ she’s  _ hiding something. Kira looks at her own lightsaber. She can’t identify the emotions in her chest. It’s warm and light and makes her want to smile. 

“Good choice.” is all she manages to say. 

.

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sacrificing stats for aesthetic one lightsaber at a time


End file.
